Child's Play
by Sparky The Tomboy
Summary: What happens when our favorite, oddly nice and compassionate, demon gets returned to a more innocent age? Well, why don't we find out? NO SLASH (sadly) there is a little bit of OC in this


"What do you expect me to say?"

"A sorry would be a nice start!"

"Sorry? But I have no reason to be sorry. I didn't do anything."

"AUGH! You don't even see it do you!?"

Sam and Dean hesitated at the door, glancing at each other as the elder's hand drifted above the doorknob. They seemed to be silently asking the other if they should go in or not. Dean decided for them.

"Uh hey," he said, opening the door and walking in, "We're back. If anyone cared to know."

"Wonder what happened." Sam pondered out loud, following his brother in and shutting the door. The two of them headed for the 'living' room.

"Armageddon, from what it sounded like," Dean mumbled, noting a few pieces of ripped paper on the ground as he headed towards the kitchen, "The way I see it, little miss choir girl and the snake got in another spat." He rummaged through the refrigerator.

Sam shook his head. "I don't know Dean. It sounded like a little more than just a simple spat." He sat down on the windowsill, "I mean, Isabelle doesn't yell like that unless she's really fucking pissed."

His brother came back up from the fridge, a bottle of beer in his hand. He shrugged his shoulders and took a nice long gulp.

"Hello Dean."

The elder Winchester glanced at the angel from the bottom of an eye. Castiel stood there, his face a mere few centimeters apart from his own.

"Hello Cas." He said, clearing his throat, "Uh, I thought we were done with this whole 'invading personal space' thing."

"Yes, but, I believe, near you is the safest of places at the moment." The black haired angel looked just the tiniest bit frightened as he glanced over towards the stairs, "Isabelle* and Crowley are fighting."

"Yeah, no duh." Dean stated, taking another swig of beer.

"You heard?"

Sam and Dean both jumped, and turned to look at the other angel sitting in the corner. He was currently closing the book in his hands, of which he set down on a shelf very carefully. He looked at them both, a seemingly embarrassed look on his face.

"Dude," Sam said, running a hand through his hair, "Uh, I think half the state heard."

"Hmm, I figured as much." Aziraphale smiled fondly and shook his head, "Isabelle can become quite loud when she's angry. The poor dear."

Sam and Dean looked at each other again.

"So, I take it, Crowley's in the wrong then?" Dean inquired, walking over to sit at Bobby's desk.

"Well, no, not exactly."

"Oh, then Isabelle started it?" Sam asked, a little surprised that the musical angel would.

"Again, not exactly."

Dean looked a little confused. "Well, then, who did start it?" he asked, a little confused and annoyed at the same time.

"Neither of them my dear." Aziraphale looked at him, fixing him with a bright blue gaze, "This was not so much something that was started by someone, rather than something that was started by a certain turn of events."

"And, these turn events would be?" Dean edged on, waving his free hand in a circular motion.

"Well, I don't believe it is my place to speak of such things." The angel seemed bothered by something, "If Crowley would like to tell you, some time later, then I shall have no problems with such."

"The turn of events that Aziraphale mentioned were that of when Crowley helped start the last Apocalypse."

"Castiel!"

"What?"

Sam and Dean shared a 'signature' look. "What do you mean, he helped start the last Apocalypse?"

"Please, you two. Think nothing of it. He was just a worker carrying out his orders. If you want to know about it then ask Crowley, but like I said before, it is not my place to speak of it." The angel seemed flustered about the ordeal. Dean was about to say something else when Sam silenced him with a glare. They were already torturing the poor guy with such stress.

The elder Winchester just shook his head and took another swig of beer. Honestly? He was getting sick and tired of all these Angels, and Demons, and damn bloody Apocalypse's. Obviously, God must've been a particularly mean mood when he came up with the Winchester brothers' destiny.

There was a fluttering of wings, and Dean looked up to see that Crowley had appeared in the room. But, well, he was in his snake form. He hissed in a sort of annoyance and moved over towards Aziraphale. The angel held out his arm and let the serpent crawl up, and wrap himself around his neck. The demon lay there, hissing occasionally for no particular reason. Dean watched for a few moments, before deciding to break the silence.

"So, you and Isa have a nice little chat?" Crowley looked up at him, and he could have sworn that his eyes were narrowed in a glare of sorts.

"Bite me." He hissed out, before turning his head, and resting it on Aziraphale's other shoulder, facing away from the elder Winchester. Dean just chuckled, shaking his head and drinking a little more beer.

**((Heyoo guys. Hoozah! Guess who read Good Omens. That's right. Me. Man, do I love it. It's really good, and Aziraphale and Crowley, how fucking adorable. *On the note of Isabelle, she's actually a fan character of mine. One of whom I shall start writing a story for soon. So, keep an eye out for 'Heaven's Little Songbird' to learn about her story.))**


End file.
